


Mermaid Noir

by UnicornForceWinds



Series: Mermaid AU Extras [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: 1950s Slang, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Noir, Cheesy, Corporate Espionage, Crack, Crime, F/M, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 20:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7068004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnicornForceWinds/pseuds/UnicornForceWinds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: So what if Ellana worked in corporate espionage and was a spy? The elusive, mysterious Carmen Sandiego of the Solavellan world.</p><p>Cheesy noir in which Mermaid AU's Ellana is a brilliant criminal and Solas has taken it upon himself to bring her to justice. Very silly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mermaid Noir

**Author's Note:**

> Slang Glossary at the end!

Meet the contact, say the passphrase; make the trade. A piece of frilly Orlesian cake, or so she thought. She’d heard stories about this Wolf, now apparently a major player on the scene. He’d been making big trouble for a lot of not so good people, but the only wrong he done her was wiping out the competition. She wouldn’t begrudge him that, hell, she might just buy him a drink.

It was a real divey place, straight out of some crime drama, and she stuck out like a sore thumb. If she ever worked for these Venatori clowns again, there were going to be a few ground rules. Money didn’t do you many favors trapped behind cold, iron bars.

Something in her gut said the whole thing felt hinky, and alarm bells went off in her head when she saw him. A tall drink of water like that had no business being in a place like this. He was here for her, that was certain, but the equation didn’t add up right in her head.

His eyes appraised the room, steps self-assured as he took the seat beside her at the bar. She crossed her legs and his eyes caught on the red stilettos. He was professional about it, but he liked what he saw. Strike one.

“Can I bum a light, honey?” she asked him, her voice maple syrup.

“I do not smoke,” Strike two. “but I think it might rain.”

“Oh?” she asked, extra sweet, “that’s too bad, I left my umbrella at home. Thanks, doll.”

“Of course,” he obliged, the edges of his lips lifting perfunctorily.

Strike three, and she was out.

 

\-----

 

The Vints were pissed, but this was their mess and she didn’t mop up after nobody.

“The terms of the assignment were quite clear, Miss Lavellan.”

“You can take your terms and shove ‘em, no racket’s worth being sent up river.”

“You failed to perform the exchange.”

“I don’t do hand-offs with the fuzz.”

“We were unaware of any police activity in the area.”

“Closer to home, sugar, you got yourself a canary.”

“A dangerous accusation, have you any proof?”

“You know my reputation; I do my homework.  My contact was a chain-smoking flirt who ain’t interested in dames. The cat who showed up don’t fit the bill. Either two and two equal four, or I split.”

“We will investigate your claims.”

“For now, consider me a free agent. You get your house in order, and maybe that changes.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Miss Lavellan.”

“Well _I_ work that way. These shoes weren’t made for bailing out of sinking ships.”

His face said he wanted to make her a new pair out of concrete, but she’d fill him with daylight if he tried. Lucky for him, he just grumbled.

“We will be in touch.”

 

\-----

 

The fundraiser was a veritable who’s who of Orlesian high society, but she wasn’t here to rub elbows with big money.  It seemed like every nickel grabber was working a rube tonight, and even some foreign talent she didn’t recognize. Good thing there was more than enough cabbage at this shindig to go around. Let them have the small potatoes, she was after a box job upstairs.

Dressed to the nines, with a slit to her thigh, no one batted an eyelash as she made for the elevators. Getting in and out of a place like this was always smooth angles, she thought to herself, finger reaching for the button. As the doors shut, she saw something that hit her like a kick in the pants.

 _Well shit._ If he saw her, it could make for a sticky situation, which was exactly what she didn’t need. Her mood went down with each floor the elevator went up, and her pulse was pounding. One thing was certain, she had to work that box lickity split and hightail it outta this clam-bake.

When the doors opened, she exhaled slowly and lifted her chin all the way up. She made tracks to the northwest corner office and carefully removed the painting on the south wall. From her purse, she grabbed the roll of tools and laid ‘em out. Dwarven construction, always tricky, and she was fresh outta nitro. Still, if you plied these ladies with the right kind of sweet talking, they opened up nice and easy.

Just one more tumbler, click… click… and there it was. The spring mechanism worked its magic and the little lady was ready to spill her secrets. She was straightening the frame on the wall when she heard the door open. _Play it cool, Ellana._ She smoothed out her dress, gave herself a little shake, and turned to face him.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

“An opportunity to rectify my failing to apprehend you.”

“So, you plan to call the bulls and have me sent to the pen?”

“Precisely.”

“Why’d you wanna go and do a thing like that?”

“You steal from innocent people.”

“Nobody’s innocent, doll face. Besides, what’s it to you?”

“My job.”

“If it’s scratch you’re after, I’m happy to grease you up.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Worth a shot, honey. You are a smooth article, I’ll give you that. Damn shame you wanna use those smarts to bust my chops.”

He reached behind his back, unhooking a shiny pair of bracelets from his belt, like he was gonna arrest her himself, right here.

“That’s sweet, peaches, but I'm not much for jewelry.”

She lifted a leg and put her foot firmly against his chest, not forgetting that he liked those red stilettos. It was enough to give him pause, and that’s all she needed. He looked at her confused a second and she put a hand between her legs, pulling out her iron. Pushing hard with the extended leg, she knocked him off balance, putting a little more distance between them.

“You’re quite the hunk of beef; I’d hate to have to pump you full of lead.”

“So you are not just a thief then, but a murderer as well.”

“You are full-up on the flattery, I… uuhhh, nnnnn….”

Her head was feeling all…fuzzy, and… her legs, when did they end up under her? She was kissing the pavement, or at the least the expensive carpet, and everything was spinning.

“…no bullets,” were the first words she heard clearly.

She realized he was standing over her and tried to push herself up. No dice. Warm hands grabbed her shoulders, _his_ hands.

“Are you all right?”

“Never better,” she bristled, voice not as solid as she thought it’d be.

“Can you stand?”

“I was just wondering that myself.”

His touch felt nice against her skin; grounding her. She pushed up to her knees, and it weren’t so bad, she _could do this_. He lifted her hands to his shoulders, shifted his own grip to her waist, and together they got her upright.

The moment she was standing, she collapsed against his chest, head swimming. He smelled awful nice, like rain in the evening breeze. He set her gently on the floor and placed a hand across her forward.

“If you wanted to fumble on the floor-“

“Be silent.”

“Just like a man, telling the skirt to cheese it.”

He cleared his throat impatiently.

“Has this happened before?”

“Which part?”

“You should seek medical attention.”

“Croakers? Fat chance.”

He squeezed his peepers shut, and pinched the bridge of nose. If she wasn’t genuinely scared, she’d… hell, she was still enjoying herself. Probably a good sign she had a few screws loose.

“I’m taking you to the hospital.”

He picked her up honeymoon style. His face was indignant but his stormy eyes said otherwise. If she didn’t know better, she’d say this wolf was on the make.

“Any chance I’m getting that bean shooter back?”

“None.”

“Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“Please be quiet.”

“You don’t mean that, dollface.”

“Please stop calling me that.”

“Whatever you say, sugar.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to keep up with my on tumblr, you can find me [here](http://unicornforcewinds.tumblr.com/).
> 
>  
> 
> \---Slang Guide---  
> Bean shooter – gun  
> Box - safe  
> Box Job - safe cracking  
> Bracelets - handcuffs  
> Bulls - cops  
> Cabbage – money  
> Canary - someone who sings (to the police)  
> Cheese it - stop talking  
> Clam-bake - party  
> Croaker – doctor  
> Daylight - holes (put in a person with a knife/gun)  
> Foreign talent - crooks from out of town  
> Fumble - fool around  
> Fuzz - cops  
> Grease - a bribe  
> Hunk of beef - good looking guy  
> Nickel grabber – low-rate con man  
> On the make – intent to gain (sex)  
> Peepers – eyes  
> Rube – easy mark  
> Scratch - money  
> Skirt - woman  
> Smooth angles - easy, smooth sailing  
> Smooth article - smart cookie  
> Up river - jail


End file.
